


The Girl Who Lived and The Man Out of Time

by 20Zvorak17



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fem!Harry, PTSD, Slightly OOC insofar as teenage girls act differently than teenage boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-10-26 21:37:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10795236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/20Zvorak17/pseuds/20Zvorak17
Summary: Violet Potter isn't like most girls. She doesn't care about her soulmate marks and wizard Hitler is out to kill her.Of course, she doesn't know that her soulmate cares about his marks a lot. Or that, while she's thinking about stupid, useless Umbridge, he's thinking about a girl named for flowers.Or that he'll find her and help her win the war.





	1. Chapter One

Violet has always had her fingers crossed that she’d be anomalous, one of those people who didn’t have soulmate marks. She wakes on her fifteenth birthday and she didn’t feel any different, so she is very hopeful. She holds her arms out for inspection and they are blank, as are her legs. Hopeful, she lifts her shirt over her head. 

And sees a swirly beautiful S next to her bellybutton. 

She knows that, from here, a new letter will appear every few days. Her soulmate is older than her—marks are received when the younger of the soul pair turns fifteen—but that isn’t much to go on. After all, loads of people are older than her. She wonders why she is even spending so much time dissecting this. She does not care about this soulmate. She has a war to fight and a dark lord after her blood—literally, recently. 

Her thoughts turn to the wizarding world and, in turn, her friends. They have not contacted her. Don’t they care that she is struggling with PTSD? Don’t they understand that she watched someone get murdered because of her? There is a moment of harsh realization where it occurs to her that no, they don’t understand, because they’ve never been responsible for a death or seen one or been tied up by the thing that killed your parents. It is not their fault and she certainly does not wish understanding on them. But the adults should understand. Those who lived through the first war should understand. Sirius should understand, should want to be there for her because he is her Godfather and he knows suffering. 

He knows heart break, betrayal, imprisonment, abuse. Knows what it is to be alone with your thoughts in a place that hates you and has no mercy; knows, intimately, the guilt of feeling responsible for the death of a friend. Knows and does not write her. 

Knows and _does not care_. 

She is not what Snape says she is. She isn’t selfish. She doesn’t think the world revolves around her. Does not consider herself more important than this war. And if she wishes that there was someone who did think that, who would put a fifteen year old girl ahead of Voldemort… If she wishes that for somebody, somewhere she came first… She’ll never mention it. 

  


(Because she’s the Girl-Who-Lived and it’s too much of an inconvenience for her not to be just fine.) 

  


She ignores the brief, vague disappointing missives. They do not really beggar a reply anyway. There is nothing of import on the news. No mysterious disappearances or deaths. Nothing that might be Voldemort and if anything that makes her more uncomfortable. His silence means that he has bigger plans. That they are more important than deaths which he no doubt desires. It is a sobering thought, she considers, and a noise too-like apparition sounds behind her. And Uncle Vernon. He hears it, too, blame for her his immediate reaction. A freak event and once again, she’s not responsible. But someone from her world is, she knows it. And she will be thinking on that; fuck the Dursleys.

Angry at them, at her friends, at herself, at Voldemort. She is sad, too, disappointed and hurt. She feels too much.

And decides, in an instant, that the logical conclusion is not to feel at all.

And is so so resolved that even when Dudley shows up with his gang, even as he makes fun of her about her nightmares, teases her about Cedric; even as she pulls her wand although she knows she cannot use it, points it at his throat and says, in not so many words,  _fucking try me_ , she is a strange sort of calm. But then the dementors come. For a moment, she considers allowing the dementors to have Dudley. She could run. Run and say: I thought he was behind me. 

  


(But she's the Girl-Who-Lived and saving people is the only thing she's good for.)

  


So she casts a patronus and gets expelled (and unexpelled). She is scolded like a naughty child (she isn't though; she had no choice) and no one, unsurprisingly, asks if she's fucking okay (and by the way, she isn't.) She is nearly kicked out of the Dursley's home and if it weren't for Dumbledore's ill-timed Howler she would never have had to go back. Petunia insists that she stay, instead. 

Violet wishes that her aunt  _hadn't_ because Vernon was so livid she gets vengefully knocked around. He pins her to the wall by her throat in a fury unlike she's ever seen. And worse he gives her a _look,_ this lingering dark look that makes her feel dirty. It is not the intimidating way that Snape stares her down, and yet it is infinitely more frightening. There is a spark of interest that she doesn't like. But then he drops her, cuffs her around the head, and sends her to her room.

Discretely, in confirmation that she is not imagining things, is not _crazy,_ Petunia gives her a bottle of pepper spray. "Use it if you need it." She says to Violet and it is, arguably, the closest thing to concern her Aunt has ever expressed for her. She thinks she even hears a little worry in her aunt's voice. Wonders if that should give her this warm feeling. Remembers that she's not supposed to feel. 

And turns her feelings... _off_.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve notices the V now adorning his wrist (And the Avengers begin to Avenge)  
> And in which Violet arrives at Grimmauld (and has a flashback that nearly ends badly)

There's a V on his wrist but he doesn't really have time to ponder it at the moment. Fury has just recruited him to rescue the Tesseract, and that takes priority, of course. Still, he's been thinking about his soulmate marks for...as long as he's known what they are, really. He'll take the time later.

Stark is nothing like he'd hoped. He remembers Howard, remembers brilliance but also respect. His hope that Howard's son might be similar is crushed. He resents it. He knows he should not be expecting a replica. He just wants a taste of home. He misses it, is all, and doesn't think it's too much to ask for.

(But he's Captain America and soldier on is what he does.)

Shaking off his thoughts, he enters the lab. He isn't surprised, exactly, but he's a little appalled that Stark is hacking S.H.I.E.L.D. What happened to respect? Fury is the equivalent of a CO and you do what your CO tells you. Still, when even Banner agrees that something is off...well, he can claims Stark's arrogance but Banner...He'll look for himself, though.

He is torn between glad that he did and wishing he hadn't because now he knows that S.H.I.E.L.D. is not what they claim to be. Defense in not proactive. Defense does not create weapons. Yet when Stark speaks the same thoughts he cannot help himself.  "I'm sure if Stark were still building weapons, he'd be neck deep," he snarks. Deliberately ignores the fact that Stark  _isn't_ in weapons anymore. Ignores that Stark is trying to improve the world. He's sure he wasn't this aggravated with Stark before. Annoyed, slightly resentful, but he's positive he didn't have the urge to deck the man. Something is _off._ Even Dr. Banner is losing his temper. Not really something they want happening at 6,000 feet, he acknowledges distantly. Before he even knows it he and Stark are in each other's faces. It is, he knows, he  _knows_ , what Peggy would have referred to as 'stupid male posturing'. But he can't help it.

And then the engine blows and the Battle of the Alpha Males will simply have to wait. As much as he hate, hate, hates it, it is Stark that comes up with the plan to get the engines running. It is Stark that ignores the risk to himself. And it does unhappy things to his ego. He does not like being wrong. And then they find out that Phil is dead. Dead, and Stark can only get angry. There had to be something; there had to be a way; if one doesn't exist then you make it.

But Steve has seen war, seen situations where there is no way out. Not everyone is Tony Stark who can build something from scrap metal. And Phil didn't have scrap metal anyway. 

He reassures Stark that this isn't about Fury, or following orders. And it isn't, not anymore. It is about right. And he finds himself not as surprised as he thought he'd be when 'right' is all it takes to get Tony in action. Tony has his revelation, then, and off to the tower they go because Loki is absolutely the type to add insult to injury. And as usual, Stark's plan is attack. Still, he stalls the Demi-God for long enough. Clint and Natasha show up but he can only think that the four of them can't possibly be enough. He pushes it away because he has to.

And then there is the nuke.

And Tony lays down on the wire.

Tony reappears and he feels a strange sense of relief.

Then fear because Tony is not just descending. He is in free fall. From thousands of feet in the air.

They catch him, Hulk roars and Tony survives, because  _of course he does_. The man is basically just a strangely likable and intelligent cockroach.

Loki is recaptured. The team disperses, each to their own shower. And his wrist now reads VI. Victoria? Vivian? 

Violet?

  


                                                                                                             ~~~

  


People are creeping around in her house. If they are Death Eaters they certainly lack discretion. Seriously, breaking stuff? What's to stop her from jumping out the window when she knows they are there? They said  _Do not Do More Magic_ but between expulsion and being taken to Voldemort she'll take the former. It's just Lupin, though, and a few other people he says he trusts. Some she recognizes. Others she does not. They are here to get her out, they tell her. Her mandatory sentence at the Dursleys is done. "Okay." She answers calmly and the pink-haired woman helps her pack. She does not invite conversation and the woman--Tonks--seemingly gets the hint. The trunk is packed, they are ready to leave and...

And they want her to take a portkey.

Don't feel, can't feel, don't feel. "I need a moment." She says, quiet but firm.

Five things you can see, Violet.  _Lupin, table, chair, Voldemort, Cedric, green light._ No! Focus.  _Lupin, table, chair, door, Pettigrew cutting of his arm... Lupin, table, chair, door, Moody's eye._

Four things you can hear, Violet.  __ _The clock, Tonks'  cloak, the wind, Avada Kedavra... The clock, Tonks' cloak, the wind, a throat clearing, Crucio!!_ Four things you can hear, Violet. 

Three things you can smell, Violet.

Two things you can touch, Violet.

One thing you can taste, Violet.

It takes her more than a moment--fifteen minutes, actually. But she calms herself without saying a word. She puts a finger on the portkey.

It spits her out, as portkeys do.  _Wands out, do you reckon_? And she leaps to her feet, wand up, because Pettigrew is there, because she is in danger, she's in a graveyard, expelliarmus is on her tongue because she's... 

"Alright, Violet?"

"Yeah," she answers untruthfully, thankful for the grounding question.

  


(Because she's the Girl-Who Lived and she's always alright.)

_  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm better versed in Harry Potter. I'll probably be able to keep the Avengers in character but this'll start to pick up, probably only once they start interacting.
> 
> Also, thanks for all the KUDOS! I honestly wasn't expecting it! Perpetual happy readings, all!


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Umbridge is a pink toad who wants Violet expelled and Sirius is a little disappointed that she wasn't.
> 
> (And they learn each other's names)

Today is her trial and she won't admit it but she's nervous, no matter how she tries to squash it down, remind herself that emotions are weakness and if there's anything she cannot afford--not at her trial, not in the life she's stuck living--anything at all, it is weakness. She sets her jaw and steels herself. Hermione asks her if she is okay. Violet lies, of course, because what difference does it make whether she is? She will still have to go to this trial, she will still have to listen to them deprecate her. And they do, by God they do. Well, Fudge and Umbridge do. The whole things is a farce, of course. They try to intimidate her. They try to catch her off-guard. The whole thing is orchestrated to her expulsion--to the ministry's victory, because a victory that would be. She may be unhappy with Dumbledore, but she's so relieved when he shows up--his ministry spies, no doubt, end up saving the day. She has never been so happy to see him. 

There are many who still vote to snap her wand. But Violet knows these people. These are the people who watched Voldemort rise. These are Malfoy and Nott and Rosier. These are Voldemort's toadies and Fudge's toadies, too. He walked into this trial with those votes in his pocket already. Even yet, she is acquitted because the minister hadn't figured for Dumbledore, although he really should have. 

Even though she wins the trial, even though she gets off as she should have, it is still one more thing on top of the rest. Sirius can't even bring himself to be happy for her. He doesn't put Violet first, not even when she was an infant, and he does not do it now. It is a selfish wish, that she might be expelled so he wouldn't have to be alone, but he wishes it anyway. Her godfather has disappointed her, and so has Dumbledore, but nobody cares.  She will be expected to cope with everyone calling her a liar, with being judged, with feeling Voldemort's feelings and seeing through his eyes. She will laugh and smile and say all the right things.

  


(Smile. No one cares how you feel.)

  


It is precisely as bad as she thought it would be. People avoid her on the platform, gossip about her on the train, glare at her during the feast, question her back in the common room.  __

"What did happen?" Seamus asks.  


 _Fuck you,_ she thinks but does not say.  


"None of your business." is snarled back, not by her, though, and she notes that Neville is a good friend, and she hasn't been a good friend to him. She resolves to fix that. 

Tomorrow, she thinks, will be better. Tomorrow, she will be prepared for the disbelief.

She is, but she's _not_ prepared for Umbridge. Is _not_ prepared for the pink toad of despair with a sickly sweet voice and a tongue which drips with lies. Nevertheless she remembers no weakness, no emotion, no anger. "That's false information, Professor. Healthy young men don't just die with no injuries and no toxicology. You probably wouldn't know that, of course, but there you have it."

"It was a tragic accident."

"Wouldn't it be convenient if that were true?" She thinks her point is better made in calmness anyway.

McGonagall does not help her and Violet hadn't expected her to. Lines, she doesn't think can be too awful.

They fucking  _are_. 

And S T E V E R O G wraps around her torso.

  


                                                                                                                      ~~~~~~~~~~

  


Steve wasn't expecting Fury to show up at the tower in a right state. "Can you explain to me why Stark was looking up Violet Potter?"

"She's my soulmate." He answers, holding out his arm.

Fury sighs. "Of course she is." His tone is resigned; not the least bit surprised.

"I'm going to call Coulson. Go tell Stark to stay out of S.H.I.E.L.D's database."

"She's involved with S.H.I.E.L.D? There's no other reason he'd..."

"Do you think Stark  _needs_ a reason?"

Probably not, Steve admits to himself. Still, Tony is his teammate and, despite both their best efforts, even becoming a friend, so he does not concede to Fury--not aloud.

He's got to find her now.

  


                                                                                                                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The S at the end of Rogers is just between her shoulder blades.

She still isn't interested in meeting him. What good would it do?

She cannot care for him, love him, having  _feelings._ Not until Voldemort is defeated. Not until she's free.

He doesn't deserve to be dragged into her fight. To be dragged into her life.

Doesn't deserve a soulmate that's broken and damaged and likely to die.

                                                                                                                            

  



	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they meet and Violet is convinced that it's okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I re-watched Captain America and guys Steve is only in his early twenties.

“Wait a minute,” Tony says at the end of the debriefing, “Cap’s soulmate is a wand-waving, broom-riding witch? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I assure you, I am not.” Coulson (who by the way is _not_ dead; imagine their surprise) replies smoothly. “My niece goes to school with her.” His lips twist and he turns to Steve.

“Do you want to meet her?”

_Does he want to meet her? Only every hour of every day of his life_ , he thinks.

“If it’s not too much trouble to arrange it.” Is what he says.

                                                                                                                           

                                                                                                                                        ~~~~~~

It’s a Hogsmeade weekend and Ron and Hermione drag her along. She hadn’t really wanted to but the closer she gets to the village the better she feels. She wonders if it’s the oppressive feel the castle has now that was acting as some kind of weight. If it is Umbridge, ruining what good she’s got left in her world. They go to the Hogs Head rather than the three broomsticks and Violet wonders why. They talk her into a defense group. It’s not as though it’s a bad idea, so she agrees.

“By the way,” Susan Bones mentions after, “my uncle—well he’s my auntie’s cousin but we’re close—anyway, he’s got somebody who wants to meet you.” She notes the tenseness in her shoulders, the clench of her jaw, and rushes to soothe her. “It’s not bad.” And it mustn’t be because Susan is practically bouncing on her toes. “Just wait here.” They all sit back down. “Oh,” Susan frowns before leaning over to whisper something in Hermione’s ear. It is too quiet for Violet to hear but whatever it is makes Hermione stand, pulling Ron with her. Thirty seconds later, the lightness she has been feeling intensifies.

Explodes with all the brightness, with all the power of a supernova.

She looks up to see an attractive man and there is something. Energy, she thinks, sparking in the space between them.

“Hello.” He says, somewhat awkward. “I’m Steve Rogers.” Oh, she thinks, oh. “Pleasure,” she manages to say. “Violet Potter.”

“I know.” He smiles at her. It is beauteous. It is a beacon, it is warmth.

She isn’t worthy of it. “Listen,” she fidgets, “I’m a hazard to your health. Like, people have literally died just because they were with me. No joke. Three different people. And I know you’re my soulmate, or whatever, but I just…now isn’t a good time for—well, this. So, um, if I survive past the war I’ll look you up.” She turns her attention back to her butterbeer. He sits. Waits her out. “That was Latin for please leave.” She tells him shortly.

“I heard you.” He acknowledges, his voice sure. “Let me say my piece,” He offers, “and if you still want me to leave then I will. Just hear me out.”

She eyes him for a moment before nodding. “I’ve been waiting for my marks a long time and for a good chunk of it, I was so sure I wasn’t ever going to meet them.” He pauses, wondering if it was right to edit. Decides it was; he’s making a point. “But…I have. I want to get to know you. I know you’re more than half a decade younger than I am, but you’re my soulmate. I want to fall in love with you and make you fall in love with me. I want to write you letters that you secret away. I want to put you first

(She’s the girl who lived and she’s never put first)

because _you’re my soulmate_ , Violet. Please, give me a chance to.”

It’s a very romantic sentiment, she admits. Positively Austenian. Being put first sounds, is, a wonderful dream. It is the thing she has allowed herself to hope for only in wistful, quiet moments. When the hunger pains are so bad she wants to cry or Vernon hits her so hard she has a bone bruise, she allows herself to wish, wish, wish and now, here he is. She can’t remember a time when she was put first and here he is offering it, willing her to accept. She doesn’t know what to say. How do you follow that speech?

_I will get you killed_. _I'm a danger to you and you're a danger to me. You're a weakness,_  She thinks. _I don't want to fall in love,_ she also thinks.

“I’ll buy you a butterbeer,” she says. “Be right back.” As she makes to stand, his answering smile is blinding, but guilt rests in her stomach like lead.

She has put her own soulmate into a sniper’s crosshairs. More accurately, she has placed him at the business end of Voldemort’s wand.

_How very selfish,_ she thinks and wonders why the voice sounds so much like Snape.

 

                                                                                                                                      ~~~~~~~

Immediately upon entering the confines of her dorm she is accosted by Hermione. "What's he like? Is he smart? Is he nice? What's his name? Did you talk? How did it go?"

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "Breathe, Hermione. He seems intelligent. We just sat and talked, had a few butterbeers. I Just got back, actually. He's wonderful, 'Mione. His name is Steve, Steve Rogers and.."

Hermione interrupts. "Steve Rogers as in Captain America? Why is that not surprising? It should be, but it really isn't."

Violet feels something loosen in her gut. "But that's great!" She exclaims, focusing on the first thing Hermione had said. "He's not helpless! Voldemort'll have a hard time getting to him and he's got people to rescue him! I feel so much better about all of this."

"You shouldn't have been feeling guilty at all. If I know you, and I do Violet Lily Potter, you tried to send him away. He just outmaneuvered you." The knowing look Hermione shoots her way doesn't even phase her.

"He gave me an entire, spontaneous 'you're my soulmate speech'." She confesses. "He  _heard_ me and then he refused to bugger off and he got all sweet. It's not  _my_ fault. He said some really sweet things. But he promised to put me first. That tore it."

Hermione understands, as she always does. Violet's important to a lot of people of course. More important than their own children or revenge or the greater good, though? Never.

"It makes him a target, though." Violet continues.

"Violet, he's a superhero. He and his team are the first muggles Voldemort will go after. He's _already_ a target." Although that isn't really comforting, the guilt is, somehow, less.

And the determination to win this war is stronger.

 


	5. Chapter Fie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it is discovered that Voldemort's aware of the soulmarks  
> (And Steve meets the Godfathers)

"My dear girl," Dumbledore tells her somberly, "it seems that Voldemort has become aware of your soul marks and has tasked some of his Death Eaters to bring your soulmate to him."

"I tried to tell him this would happen. But did he listen? No."

"He has been relocated to Headquarters, only to leave if the Avengers are called together."

"Why the exception?" Is her query.

The headmaster's lips twitched. "We did not think he'd agree otherwise, neither could we take your soulmate from you," he peered over his glasses to be sure she caught his sincerity, "even for his own safety."

 

(He's in a house with two men, both quite overprotective of _her_. She's not really sure that counts as safe.)

 

"The man is much like you; he feels that, because he can, he must protect who he can." It is away from Voldemort, and that is all she dares to ask for...except one thing. 

"Can I see him over Christmas?"

 

                                                                                                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If Dumbledore had forbade her, it wouldn't have mattered. Christmas break found them at Grimmauld anyway.

                                                                                                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Her warning is still fresh in his head, so when he sees people following him, his instincts kick in hard. Tony's suit goes up and they turn to face the threat. "Don't be stupid," growls a man with scars and a fake eye, "we're on Potter's side."

He relaxes, only infinitesimally. "Prove it," he challenges, refusing to be lulled into a false sense of safety by the kinship he feels with the grizzled man, this fellow soldier.

"Erm..." begins a younger, black man though his aura is again in sync with his, "we're part of an organization that's fighting Voldemort. Uh, we rescued Violet from her relatives...how would you like us to prove it?" The man finally gives up. "Put your wands away," is his first demand, "then we'll go back to the tower and talk. Via a taxi. No magical means."

It is a good plan, even Moody is grudgingly impressed. If they were Death Eaters, his quick thinking alone would severely hinder a kidnapping plot. The ride is quick and soon they are settled in the common areas, the rest of the Avengers making themselves scarce, but accessible. "So," Steve begins, "you're on Violet's side, you  _say."_

"We  _are_." A red-haired man insists, running a hand through his thinning hair. "She's my son's best friend. Her soul marks have come to the attention of You-Know-Who."

"He is a muggle, Arthur. He doesn't know." A woman corrects.

A greasy-looking man interrupts smoothly. "The Dark Lord keeps close tabs on Potter, and he has become aware that she has met her soulmate. Surprisingly, this is not due to her own lack of restraint but the gossip mill at Hogwarts is never to be underestimated." The man's sneer bears less resentment than Steve thinks it is intended to. "We wish to, effectively, place you in protective custody. That is, you will be taken to a safe location where you will remain..." The grizzled man shoots him a _look_ and he scowls in response, continuing on without change in inflection. "Where you will remain unless called upon by your...compatriots. They may be informed of the circumstances, but nothing further. This is a precaution for their safety, your safety and Violet's."

He is not concerned for himself and his team is well able to hold their own. It is the mention of Violet that seals the deal. As he agrees, the look on the dark-haired man's face suggests that it may have been intended to. "Twenty minutes, boy." The grizzled man says, sounding aggressive. "Pack up and kiss your team goodbye." He feels like he is back in the army, taking orders. He has the idea that the man simply has that effect. He exits quickly, barely suppressing the urge to salute.

"Hey, guys. Team meeting real quick."

                                                                               

                                                                                                                      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next thirty seconds are memorable although he wishes he could forget them. He is deposited onto a street, barely keeping his feet and resists the urge to vomit. "Read this." The red-haired man tells him, thrusting a note under his nose. He obeys and is shocked when an entire building appears before his eyes. He raises his fist to knock when it appears that no one else will, but his hand is caught by another--a petite woman with pink hair...although he is certain it was blue before. "You'll wake the portrait," she says by way of explanation, which explains nothing at all. "But you get to meet Violet's godfathers," she points out in a helpful tone.

This is _not_ an encouraging thought. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a fear of Sirius is instilled in Steve, Steve fucks up, Steve issues justice stars and stripes style, and Steve realizes just how monumental his fuck-up was.

He has never experienced such an awkward silence, though intimidating may be a better word. He is sat across from two men who glare, narrow-eyed at him. Both exude a certain sense of danger--he will later learn that this, for the long-haired one, Sirius, is because the man has what they all refer to as the Black madness. "It's literally in the blood," insists the woman whose hair is, in fact, changing colors. "My mum has a wicked temper. I've seen her cast, ah, questionable curses, at people who think to insult my dad and Sirius is...overprotective...of those he cares about. Also, I've got an Aunt that is..er..."

"Say no more." He says, both understanding her meaning and taking pity.

Remus picks up helpfully, "He almost fed someone to a werewolf."

Which part of this freaks him out most, he does not know. There is the fact that a man he is sharing a house with tried to commit murder in defense of his friends, that that man is his soulmate's godfather and also, werewolves are real. He decides he does not wish to pursue the first two.

"Werewolves are real?"

"Oh, yes." He flashes a dangerous grin. "You're looking at one." That explains the fear he had earlier been embroiled in, despite his lack of fear of most things.

"You seem perfectly nice," he counters. "As for Sirius, I refuse to be afraid. I'm not."

"You should be." A voice sounds behind him, smooth and deep and contemptuous. It is the dark-haired man from before. "While Nymphadora," there is a sound of indignant protest which is promptly ignored, "may be prone to exaggeration, I am not. The man is mad, dangerous and Violet is the most important thing in his world. He knows curses which produce effects that you cannot,  _dare not_ dream of. His cousin is Voldemort's right hand. I have seen her handiwork and Black's own grandfather invented many of the more...unpleasant curses she so favors. Because they are in Afrikaans, they cannot be countered by  _anyone_ except for a Black. He will not undo the curses and Nymphadora lacks the knowledge required. Therefore, Mr. Rogers, I should think you have reason to be quite afraid. Moreover, I have an arsenal of my own, among them a cutting curse which, if cast by someone with adequate power, can sever the jugular and which requires a very _specific_ counter-curse. Black knows many of my creations; that included, I believe." There is a pause as the man allows his words to sink in. "Have I made plain the situation for you, Mr. Rogers?"

Steve can only nod. 

 

                                                                                                                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

The dream with Mr. Weasley happens and the only person that blames Violet is Violet--as all her friends make clear. She is glad to see Steve although the tension between him and Sirius could be cut with a knife. She doesn't like it, the fact that her godfather and her soulmate are at odds. Nevertheless, with both harboring a fragile male ego, she thinks it best to let them sort it out. It is two weeks in and she has another dream. She casts, _Voldemort_ casts the cruciatus and she awakes gasping, feeling the pain of a cruciatus but it is not this which leaves her screaming. She's having a panic attack again, before discovering that Steve is the only one in the house who is  _not_ a heavy sleeper. It is he that comes to her aid, enveloping her in his arms for lack of knowledge of what else to do. "Five...five....five things..." she is attempted to mutter something but her hyperventilation prevents her.

His phone, modified and sent by Tony with Tonks as the courier, rings. It is Fury. He needs to stay with Violet; she needs him. He answers the phone to tell Fury exactly that, until Fury explains the situation. He should stay...he should...he...he goes. By the time he returns the students have returned to Hogwarts.

Months go by and he never does get a chance to apologize to Violet.

 

                                                                                                                         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She gives Snape the message, his momentary pause indicates that he understands, but it is subtle enough that she cannot leave it to chance. What's more, they must escape Umbridge's clutches. Umbridge is muttering to herself, she means to use the torture curse on Violet. Violet has had worse than a pissed off Umbridge. It is Hermione who cannot bear the idea. She is about to spill when the door is flung open.

Steve steps through the door. How he got in to the castle is anybody's guess--indeed Hermione may actually have one--and despite her anger she is glad to see him. He marches towards Umbridge who draws herself up to full height--unimpressive and nigh unnoticeable compared with Steve's six feet. "I am the Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic!" She declares in her girlish voice. "You are a lowly muggle and you will respect..." The Inquisitorial squad and each member of the DA follow the arch of Umbridge as she flies across the room and into a wall before their gazes return, slowly to the man whose shield is extended. "Oops," he deadpans, "accidentally swung my shield."

People blink.

"Occupational hazard." A shrug.

Violet returns to her dorm, rummages through to find her mirror and calls Sirius's name. He is there and he is fine.

                                                                       

 

 

                                                                                                                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Steve, she knows, is still in the common room and this is a conversation which must be had. She squares her shoulders, and prepares herself for what is to come. It will not, she knows, be happy or even a resolution, necessarily. She begins to descend the stairs, stopping a few feet from him.

"I'm sorry," he begins. At her scoff, he reaches for her face, a casual gesture they have both become accustomed to. She jerks away; the message is clear. The need to explain is overwhelming. "I know...I know what I said. And I'm sure that, given that, me leaving was...was unexpected."

"Unexpected?" She echoes quietly and something in her tone makes his heart clench. "Not really. Disappointing, sure. Embarrassing because I _actually_ believed you, very much. But it is pretty much exactly what my life has taught me to expect."

That hurts him more than anything; he is just another disappointment in the long list. One more person that did not put her first.

"I...I shouldn't have gone."

"No. I've heard this excuse a million times and it rings truer with each repitition." That, he believes was  _intended_ to hurt; a pointed jab even as her voice is thick. "I understand. All for the greater good. What is one person, even your soulmate, to the safety of many? Your teammates could not have handled it, I am sure."

"Violet," he says desperately. "I know I screwed up, but...please don't be mad."

She bites her lip sharply, inhales, wills the tears back into her eyes. "I'm not mad, Captain Rogers." An errant tear falls before she can stop it and the sight of it claws deep inside his heart. Breaks it. 

"I'm not mad." 

 

 

                                                                                                                        

 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A query, a realization, a reconciliation.  
> Really, really short.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly for the purposes of answering a couple of questions and bringing us back to...not angst...with the soulmates, because I want to start moving them in a romantic direction.

Violet wonders if she's overreacting. Sirius had apprised her of the situation Steve had left for (a giant robot that couldn't tell the difference between destroying the world and saving it) and it does sound like an all-hands-on-deck situation. Further, he rushed to stop her when Snape's patronus reached Grimmauld. No one else thought to go to her.

She thinks she understands, it's just that EVERY INCH of this could have been avoided if he had listened to her that first meeting. She hadn't wanted a soulmate and she'd made that clear. He'd convinced her, though, and the breaking point had been his promise of putting her first. So now she is faced with the situation that her soulmate risked himself to save her because they knew each other; that he could've been crucioed or even obliviated.

And it had been for nothing. The thing she had wished for so arduously made irrelevant and her soulmate at risk. 

Then again, if not for him she might have ended up at the ministry and who knows what would have happened then? Maybe she'd have considered the mirror as a second measure of checking on Sirius but maybe not. Anything could have gone differently. She owes him and she hates it.

Perhaps she ought to talk to Steve. They are, after all, in the same house.

(She'd been allowed to stay at Grimmauld. After Dumbledore had explained the prophecy and the blood protection and she had reminded him that Voldemort took her blood thus negating it, the elderly wizard had conceded.)

Actually, she's not  _just_ in the same house as her soulmate; their rooms are side by side. Thing is, she doesn't know what to say. She gets it but she's furious. Why is she furious? Undetermined. Is she sorry? Undetermined.  She cannot very well say she has no desire to see him again. The Death Eaters know who he is thanks to the Junior Death Eaters at Hogwarts and she has to stay where she's safe, too. It will get very awkward, very quickly.

She makes a decision. Walks across the hall. Knocks. The door swings open and he looks surprised. "May I come in?" She requests, her voice more formal than she wishes it were.

"Of course." His nervousness is almost palpable.

"I am very used to people caring about me a lot but putting me second. Even if I was in a panic attack I would not have minded. You said you would put me first; still I have the same hero complex and I would have understood under normal circumstances." She breathes deeply. "But the reason I even  _agreed_ to get to know you was because of that. I didn't want a soulmate, and you just negated the one reason I accepted meeting with you. I just...I didn't want to do this to begin with. People have been saying things to get what they want since the beginning of time, but I didn't think you were one of them. Maybe you even thought you meant it. That's why I was so...so whatever I was. Angry? Hurt? Disappointed?" A pause. "But what's done is done. I _did_ agree and we _are_ getting to know each other. So...I'm not upset anymore. I'd like to forget it."

He has the urge to apologize again but he's sure that she doesn't want to hear it. Instead, "It's forgotten."

 


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A scrawny redhead gives the shovel talk to a super soldier and Violet lets this soulmate thing happen

"Violet is my best friend in the world. If people had platonic soulmates, too, she'd be mine." Ron narrowed his eyes. "So I understand that you don't want to hurt her and you regret that you have. But I have a wand and a source that can teach me curses--and gladly will, I expect. Do. Not. Destroy my sister."

"I wouldn't." Steve replied solemnly and it is a satisfactory answer.

 

                                                                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Violet has never cared for magic theory so she wonders how, in the wake of the almost-went-to-the-ministry-more-or-less-unprepared debacle, explaining it has found its way into her routine. She curls up on the couch with Steve, or sits on his lap in the armchair or just leans her head on his shoulder and explains Gamp's laws of Transfiguration, explains why certain ingredients can make a healing potion into poison. He finds it fascinating, after all. Other times she tells him about her adventures and his arms tighten around her. Counterpoint, she speaks, too, of riding a Hippogriff, flying a broom, Wronksi Feints. Of the DA. 

"I wish I could see your patronus." He tells her softly, stroking her hair, when she explains its power and also its beauty. Life events can change them, she tells him. Tonks's for example, when she fell in love.

She bites her lip, "Technically it's illegal but we're under the fidelius so they won't pick up my magic--according to Sirius, anyway. It's a stag--Prongs, my dad's animagus. EXPECTO PATRONUM!" It is not, much to her surprise, a stag.

"That's...different." It is-and upon recovering from the shock of the change she isn't surprised at all-an eagle. He can't help feeling an inexplicable warmth, all the more when it flies over to him. He reaches out, transfixed, and is surprised only mildly that it is corporeal, that he can feel it. Warmth and comfort and happiness and  _home_ , which is a feeling he hasn't felt since waking, spread through him. "Thank you," he says, holding her tighter. She feels it, too.

 

Of course, it is too much to hope that the contentment will remain as she attempts to sleep. There is a green light and a scream that she distantly recognizes as hers. Steve is there again. He hates that he is unable to help her but the system she has, the system that  _works_ is not one that requires his assistance. He holds her anyway. "I thought," he says when she is calm again, "that that panic attack before was a one-off. I didn't know you were still having them."

 _Of course you didn't,_ she thinks but does not say,  _I never would have let you._ She prays that he will not ask.

Her hopes are dashed, "How long have you had battle fatigue?" He asks her. She is confused for a moment until she remembers that PTSD was once called that and deflects. 

"It's not called battle fatigue anymore." He raises an eyebrow pointedly. "Since the end of fourth year." She admits.

This is, it occurs to her, the first time she has admitted to another person that she is not okay. Until now, it has been Hedwig and herself and the wallpaper. 

"Have you seen a psychologist?"

"There's no such thing as mind-healer," She tells him. "And even if there was," she sneers, "I'm the  _Girl-Who-Lived._ "

"You don't have the luxury of not being alright." He surmises correctly and it occurs to her that he is in the same boat.  His understanding voices the fact well enough.

 

                                                                              ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sixth year is not bad until the very end. It _is_ an annoyance that nobody--except Steve--believes her about Malfoy and at the end of they year they all wish they had. He is responsible for Dumbledore's death, at least as much as the traitor Snape is. Grimmauld is, of course, compromised and people scatter--the Weasley's back to the burrow, Sirius and Remus to Black manor. Steve offers Avengers tower but the Statute of Secrecy is cited. When Steve argues that they have been read in, he is reminded that all it takes is two words. They follow Violet's godfathers instead. Her nightmares intensify, as nightmares are wont to do and eventually Steve stops sleeping in his own room. Starts sleeping in hers and she sleeps, not just through the night, but better than she ever has.

So does he.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet enters Steve's World  
> (And the fight about hunting horcruxes is going in the history books)

For the first time since they began to share a bed, it is his nightmare that wakes her. At first, she isn't sure what woke her. There was a pressure in her chest, not unlike one of her panic attacks but it wasn't  _her_ panic. She wondered if this was how Steve felt when they were near and she had an episode. Shaking that aside she moved over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Steve," she says at a gentle volume, "You're having a nightmare. Wake up, love." He sat up, eyes wild. "Listen," she continued in a tone that suggested she might be speaking to a wounded animal, "You're having a normal reaction to an abnormal event. You're in England. You're at Black Manor. Are you with me?" She puts her hands on his face, their eyes meeting. "You're safe."

He looks calm. She thinks that the worst of it is over but then he barely breathes, "It's so cold."

"It's not real." She says, but the words don't register, she realizes that they _won't,_  and she does the only thing she  _can_ do. 

She steps into his world.

"Let's get you warm then." She suggests, casting an empty warming spell at him. She wraps the blankets around him, climbs into bed beside him and holds him tight. "Feel warmer?" She says, continuing to rub his arms.

"Thanks." He says, voice hoarse, twenty minutes later when he turns to face her.

"Anytime. Can you go back to sleep? We can get up now if not." She won't let him dwell for five hours alone.

"I can sleep," he answers, seeming almost certain. 

He steals a kiss, slides back down, slings an arm around her waist and does not dream again.

 

                                                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"You're not coming with us, Steve." Violet says sternly, trying not to fight. Bill's wedding is in two days and everyone is stressed enough as it is.

"You're not going without me." He counters and he is as determined as she is.

"You have to fight magic with magic, Steve. And you _don't have magic."_   

"You don't even know if magic will affect me because of the serum." There is an edge to his voice that she takes as challenge.

"Oh, yes. The _cure-all serum_. Protects your body, probably your mind to an extent. But tell me. What if someone tries to imperius you? That is, completely remove your free will and force yout o do their bidding? Make you kill people; make you use thumbscrews on Hermione or shove bamboo shoots up my fingernails. Will it protect you against that?  No. It won't and you...I can't let any of that happen to any of us." 

"That's not your decision." He says, raising his voice.

"I'm trying to protect you!" She yells back.

"AND I'M TRYING TO PROTECT YOU!" She thinks maybe the whole house shakes with his shout.

"YOU'RE NOT COMING WITH US!"

"I am." He says, deadly calm, "I have decided and I'll make it happen. You counter it however you like, but I'll find you and you won't be able to get rid of me."

She deflates. "I just don't want you to get hurt, Steve."

"I know," he tells her gently, "I know. But I feel the same." He catches her eyes. "We'll protect each other better if we're together. And I can help you. Because I'm  _not_  an average muggle. You think these magic-Nazis are going to believe that? It's an X-factor they can't know to prepare for."

He's right and she hates it. "Okay." She concedes, "okay."


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet's more important than that time Sirius had him at wand point, Bill gets married, three magic-users and a super-soldier go on the run and they take Steve up on the Avengers tower.

They're leaving after Bill's wedding. That's the plan and she knows, the second they run that's it. She destroys the horcruxes or the whole world burns.

There's desperation and fear but every time Steve kisses her, in that way of his, all of that fades. Today it's at the back of her mind. Instead of paralyzing her, though, it drives her, lights a fire that tells her  _everything will be_ _okay_. They will be okay. They would. He had to be, because after coming around to the idea, she had been forced to admit that she couldn't do this without him. Perhaps only to herself, but she does.

 

                                              ~~~~~~~~~~~

The wedding is nice, at least up until it isn't. The lynx appears and Kingsley speaks and death eaters appear and all Violet can think is that Fleur will kill the lot of them for ruining her wedding. They race to Hermione and they all grab hands and they find themselves at a diner. This, Violet decides, is a fairly good plan.

"We should hide in the muggle world.

"What?" Hermione creases her eyebrows, "Violet, muggles can't defend against magic."

"Yes, fair enough," Steve says, taking up his soulmate's train of thought, " but do your people have anything that can protect against something that goes 520 feet per second?"

"Guns." Hermione breathes, "of  _course_. People can't move fast enough. They need at least half a second. At _absolute_ least."

"Pureblood." Ron reminds them. "Fill me in?"

"It's like..." Violet thinks for a moment. "It's like getting hit with a bombarda, a sectumsempra, a confringo and that curse Dolohov hit Hermione with, all at once."

"Well." he nods decisively, looking impressed. "We need guns."

Hermione eye's Steve speculatively, purses her lips, but finally says, "we need guns and superheroes."

Steve's lips twitch, "I know some people." And he asks Tony to send him a jet. Somehow--he's still working on the how--in the four hours it takes Death Eaters have attacked them and they learn a couple of things from it: they want to capture Violet, not kill her; Hermione can cast an obliviate; vibranium can deflect a killing curse.

So when they board the jet they're all emotionally exhausted and the wizard and two witches are physically exhausted as well. It's a nice feeling when they deboard though. The tower is exactly as he remembers, but there's a moment of pure awkwardness when Tony informs Violet there are empty rooms a few floors down for the three of them and she has to explain that she'll be staying with Steve. Everyone else thinks it's comedy gold, of course, and the archer even hoots when they disappear to Steve's floor. Violet doesn't even acknowledge it, just makes a beeline for the shower. She looks like it's a morning after, like she should also be doing the walk of shame.

(She knows exactly why  _that_ thought occurs to her)

                                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We're gonna be okay." She tells him, wrapped in a towel and rifling through his closet.

His eyes soften, "We're going to  _win_."

"When we get back," she suddenly decides, "we'll get ourselves an apartment."

"A tiny apartment," he agrees with a soft smile on his lips, "bills and rent that's too damn high and you and me."


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Ministry invasion goes south real fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly everything has been 80% canon, 20% wishful thinking. As of this chapter...  
> To hell with canon.

"I think we have to go to Grimmauld." Violet says over breakfast the next morning. "I think the locket is there. I remember seeing it when we were sorting everything."

"Can you just call Kreacher?" Hermione says.

_For fuck's actual sake..._ "Yes," she answers, drawing out the word, "but I'm not sure that's the best of ideas."

"Why not?" Ron asks through a mouthful of Eggs Benedict.

"Oh, suppose you're right Violet," she turns to look at the redhead. "We are surrounded by muggles, Ron," Hermione points out. "Do you or do you  _not_ want Kreacher's cooperation?" 

"Did the Order refuse to hold meetings just because we were in the same house?" Ron counters.

"Point." Violet eyes the non-magical occupants of their temporary safe haven. "Can we clear the room? You too, Steve." She adds although she offers him a gentle smile.

"Wait just one second," Tony disagrees indignantly. "You brought us into this and we accepted."

"Tony," Steve says, "come on, just..."

"I'm not leaving, capsicle. Come on," He wheedles, this time to Violet, "I'll be like a mouse."

 

                                          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Are we sure there's no better way than breaking into the ministry?"

"Live a little, Steve." Tony offers, helpfully. "We're all going to be there."

"Besides," Hermione cuts in before Tony can say something ridiculous, "we've got a plan and a week before we have to enact it."

                                          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Technically the ministry is successful. A ton of muggle-borns are saved and the horcrux is recovered before being handed off to Natasha. The Avengers (bar Steve) even escape back to the quinjet. 

The rest are captured by Dolohov, Malfoy and Bellatrix. 

 

                                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"They'll come, Vi," Steve says of the other Avengers, trying to soothe her. She and Hermione are pulled away, though, and he reaches for his soulmate desperately before being sent into the air at a word from the wild-eyed woman, flying backwards into a wall.

"They're going to interrogate them," someone says, entirely too calmly, "but neither one will give in. They've got too many biddles flying around them to let Voldemort win. The Death Eaters are furious--none of us have given them anything, either."

"Torture?" He asks, not wanting to know.

And then two voices in tandem begin to scream.

"There's your answer," a boy says grimly, not an ounce of surprise in his voice.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Death Eaters are thinned a bit and SHIELD says fuck your fidelius charm.

Hermione's trying not to scream--refusing Malfoy Sr. the satisfaction, but Violet knows she hasn't got a hope in hell of biting her screams down with any measure of success. Bellatrix has made people crazy and she knows she is right when the first curse hits harder than Voldemort's. She screams and screams but she's determined to look strong. Still, it drops her to her knees and she tastes blood where she's bitten her tongue. "One of you will tell us about that sword." Malfoy says in that infuriating superior tone that pisses her off while Bellatrix temporarily lifts her curse.

They could admit that it had, somehow, materialized in Thor's hand mid-battle, but even if they purebloods believed that it would only put the Avengers in unnecessary danger. Malfoy too drops the spell. The two girls exchange looks and Violet turns back, pastes a superior look onto her face as best she can, "You prostrate yourselves at the feet of a psychopath. I'm not telling you people jack  _shit_."

They cast again and it goes on for hours before, "I've got a better idea."

The girls are immobilized as the supremacists take a little break. Nothing is as terrifying as Bellatrix when she returns. There's a knife in her hand and she's smiling so  _prettily._  

 

                              ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of his soulmate shrieking in pain is one he will never, ever forget. He can imagine Violet, hands clenched and teeth, too; her chin tilted up in defiance, and just when he thinks it can't possibly be worse, it goes silent. For twenty minutes, there's absolutely nothing. Until once more comes the screams but then the sound of hope arrives

( _For those about to rock we salute you)_

and he breathes. The door to the cavernous room they're in opens and it's Clint and  _thank fucking God._ "Nat's sneaking through the house taking out all the stragglers. We though we'd all fight the main group together--safety in numbers. We've been here awhile, but I had to look all over for you. I'm afraid to ask...what is that godawful screaming we were hearing?"

Grim in the face, Steve answers him, "It's Violet. And Hermione."

Hearing the screams again causes the whole group to spring into action. They rush up the stairs and around a few corners to find  that Hulk, Natasha, Tony and Thor had killed all but two of the captors. One of the two still standing is the wild-eyed, crazy-haired brunette from before and the other had hair so blonde it was white.  Obviously the two were still alive only because they held the girls hostage. Violet, obviously, is a bit steadier on her feet but both girls are woozy looking. No surprise there--both are dripping blood. For a second, as he takes in the scene, everything is in slow motion and then suddenly everything happens really fast. Hawkeye puts an arrow through the woman's eye. He fires another at the blonde man but the wizard, prepared for it, twists out of the way, grabs an urn which begins to glow and disappears.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters will probably be short. Just...yeah, sorry.


End file.
